


What Becomes Of The Broken Hearted

by HookerStiles



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Douchey Derek, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Steter, F/M, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Little bit of Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Scott, Pack Family, Pack Feels, Stiles sticking up for himself, dub-con, forced bite, implied other relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HookerStiles/pseuds/HookerStiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has noticed that something is going on with the pack. He is determined to find out, no matter what the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1 : So This Is How It Starts

**Author's Note:**

> (This is something I've been wanting to write for a while. It will have multiple chapters and I will update as often as possible. I haven't planned this so I don't know yet if Sterek or Steter will be the end game, it will depend on how each chapter progresses. Tags will be updated as and when it applies. Any comments or requests are welcome, and I will try to accommodate if possible. Otherwise, enjoy! :3 )

Chapter 1

For someone who considered himself relatively intelligent, Stiles was having a really dumb blonde moment. For the last week or so, he had been feeling more and more … left out from pack activities. But he couldn’t figure out if it was just his imagination or not. For example, last week there had been a pack meeting which he hadn’t been invited to. But he had just figured they had forgotten to text him. Then the teen wolves had gone out bowling. Again, Stiles assumed they thought he wouldn’t have been interested. But, now Scott wasn’t replying to his texts about a game weekend with pizza and Mountain Dew, and /that/ was very unusual. Scott never passed up a gaming weekend. Frowning, Stiles decided to text the other teens. Maybe they could tell him why Scott was acting all weird. 

But no one replied. Pursing his lips, Stiles fought against the rising panic building in his chest. Surely some new supernatural beastie hadn’t got to them all? Derek would have told him. He was research guy after all. They needed him and his google-fu skills to find all the information Dr Deaton was too vague and mysterious to give them. Shaking his head, he grabbed up his keys and phone before heading out his house to the jeep. He needed to check the Hale house. If Derek was there, maybe he would have some answers. Beyond his usual scowly, sour look anyway. Starting up the jeep, he drives quickly, but still obeying the traffic laws (No need to get in trouble … this time) as he made his way over to the old Hale place. Normally, he’d have his random selections of music playing, but for once, he was too tense to choose a song. The tension eased some as he parked outside the burned out Hale house, only to be replaced with confusion. Everyone’s car was here. Scott’s, Lydia’s, Derek’s, even Jackson’s fancy car had made it here. What the hell was going on? Were they having /another/ pack meeting without him? Hurt flared in his chest, hot and painful. Well. That was just a dick move. 

Jumping down from his jeep, slamming the door closed with a little more force than intended, he stormed up to the front porch, heart pounding furiously. Stomping into the main room, he found everyone he had been looking for. All well and safe it would seem. Quirking his eyebrow, he glared at each of the wolves silently, watching with some satisfaction as they, one by one, lowered their gaze guiltily. 

 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here? /Another/ little party that I was not invited to? Tut tut, Derek, didn’t anyone tell you? If you want to keep the few friends you have, you shouldn’t leave them out of things like this” Stiles glared at Derek the hardest, almost willing him to show some remorse, or guilt. Something, other than the level gaze Stiles was currently receiving. 

 

“Why would I invite you, Stiles? I only tolerated you because of Scott. Now he is part of my pack … well … why do I need you?”

 

Stiles stared at the Alpha, his jaw dropping slightly in shock. Why did he …? Was he freaking kidding? What didn’t Stiles do for the pack? He cooked pack meals, he researched everything, he had even saved each pack member at one time or another! He did more for this pack, than the pack did itself! Fury pulsing in his veins, Stiles stepped closer to Derek slowly, eyes narrowed. 

 

“You know what, Derek? You guys do need me. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even have a pack! I’m the one who convinced everyone to give you a chance. I’m the one who gets you the information you need every time a new creature tries to take your territory. If it weren’t for me, you would have drowned in that damn pool after Jackson lizard-boy attacked you! So don’t stand there and pretend I’m just some useless human. I do more for you guys than you do for yourselves!” 

 

With each example, Stiles could feel himself getting more and more furious. He took a step closer to Derek, crowding his personal space and ignoring how the Alpha’s eyes flared red at the intrusion. This was all Derek’s fault. Stiles didn’t understand why they suddenly didn’t feel like they needed him. He knew they did. So why was Derek being so … so … mean? Without warning, Derek shoved Stiles back, out of his personal space, a low snarl escaping his throat. 

 

“We don’t need you, Stiles. We don’t /want/ you. You are just a useless, pathetic, needy human with no actual skills that the pack needs. At least Allison can protect herself and others. And Lydia is useful in a fight. You, however? What do you do? Read stuff off the internet and assume you are an expert? We don’t need that. So leave. Go home, and play your stupid games. You aren’t pack, and you never were.”

 

Hurt flashing across his features, Stiles turned away before any of the pack could see the tears filling his eyes. They didn’t want him? Fine then! Walking out, he slams the door behind him, hearing the wood splinter slightly at the force before running to his jeep. Scrubbing at his eyes, he climbed into the driver’s seat, peeling away from the Hale place. His eyes wouldn’t stop watering. He really should just pull over to the side of the road until his vision wasn’t blurry but he couldn’t. He had to get as far away as possible. How could his friends just sit there like that? How could /Scott/? His brother in spirit, if not in blood? 

Taking one hand off the steering wheel to scrub at his eyes again, attention momentarily diverted from the road, is all it took. He heard a horn blaring, wheels squealing as he struggled to regain control, before a brief flash of agony. 

 

“This is all their fault” He thought. “No one cares about me anyway …” His last thought before his eyes drifted closed, darkness claiming him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the accident leaves Stiles stunned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // Thank you for the comments on the last chapter! I was not expecting them at all XD Hope you enjoy this new chapter. I don't own Teen Wolf or anything affiliated with it (unfortunately) Comments and criticisms welcome :3

Stirring from the nightmare he was sure he was having, Stiles blinked tiredly in the darkness. When he tried to move his hands to rub his eyes, he couldn’t. It was eerily silent around him, and he began to wonder where he was. He didn’t remember much, just the fight and leaving Derek’s place upset, knowing they wouldn’t follow him. Knowing that they didn’t care about him at all. A wave of sadness rolled over him, making him want to curl up and sob until the hurt in his chest either eased up or killed him. He’d be happy with either option right now. He’d also be good if he could move. But, for some reason he couldn’t. Not because he was restrained or anything (although, if he was, he’d /love/ to know how that happened). It was more like his limbs wouldn’t obey his silent orders to move. He couldn’t even move his big toe. And, boy, did that make him feel like the crazy chick from Kill Bill. 

Blinking in the darkness, he wonders if he died on the way home. Vague shapes, sounds, fill his memories. Had he been in a car crash? Had he died? Oh God! What if he had died? Who would look after his dad then? They only had each other! He couldn’t bear to think of his dad at his deathbed, sobs wracking his shoulders over the broken body of his only living (now dead) relative. The image caused his heart to clench painfully. He couldn’t be dead. He had to live to look after the Sheriff. No one else would keep as strict an eye on his diet as he would. No one would remind his dad to sleep enough to function. No one would make sure his dad didn’t turn back to the oblivion only drink can offer. He had to get back to him! If he could only find his way out of the darkness, to return to his dad. He would endure the hurt of losing his friends, his pack, if he could get back to his dad. Fighting off the slow building panic, he tries to move his limbs, to no avail. In the distance, a light began to shine. At first, Stiles thought it was just a figment of his imagination, but the more he looked, the brighter it got. Curious, he watched as it drifted closer. Instead of feeling afraid, he felt oddly comforted, basking in its otherworldly glow. As his eyes started to drift closed, his body starting to go lax, it took on a familiar form, its words sharp.

“Stiles! Stiles, do not close your eyes! You must fight this! Listen to me, son. Your father needs you. And, whether you believe it, your pack needs you too. You have to return to them.”

Eyes snapping open, his jaw dropping slightly, Stiles can barely believe it as he gazes upon the ethereal form of his late mother. /Could/ he be imagining this? Tears blur his vision, and he quickly blinks them away, not caring that some slip silently down his cheeks. Wait. She knew about the werewolves and how he helped them? Shaking his head, his voice hoarse from emotion, he wonders how to explain the situation now.

“No, mom. They don’t need me. They don’t even want me. Since Lydia kind of joined the pack, they have no need of me now. She can do the research I used to do. All I am, is a liability, and fragile and … human.” 

Clearing his throat softly, he glanced away from the glowing perfection that was his mother. It was so weird, seeing her exactly as she was, before the cancer ravaged her body. Her light brown hair curling gently against her shoulders, whiskey eyes bright and intelligent, with a hint of mischief. People used to wonder where he got his inquisitive and mischievous side. It was all from her. His sharp mind and observational skills he got from his dad. Who he should be returning to, dammit. Glancing back at his mother, his eyes fill with tears again. Returning to his dad would be awesome but … leaving his mom behind would be hard. He missed her so much, every day! Leaning close to stroke his cheek gently, she smiles at him with her secret smile she used so often when he was a kid. 

“Your father needs you more than I do, baby boy. And you need him to keep you balanced. To stop the supernatural from destroying your soul. And you know I’m never really far from you. I will always be in your heart, and in your memories. You’ve grown up so much since I’ve been gone, Genim. And I’m so proud of you!”

Her smile is almost too beautiful as she gazes at him proudly. It made his heart wrench to know he’d never see it again. Nodding slowly, he knew he couldn’t stay here any longer, wherever here was. Stroking his cheek one last time, Claudia lent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead …

And his eyes snapped open, gasping for breath. There was an obstruction in his mouth, he couldn’t breathe around it properly. Eyes watering, he flailed, trying to remove the obstruction. Suddenly it was gone, and he sucked in a deep breath, his body arched off the soft surface he was on. Voices call to him, sounding far off, like he was under water. Flinching in the sudden bright light around him, he tried to shy away from it, but hands grabbed at his shoulder, holding him down. Words slowly start to make sense, and a voice he recognised. His dad!

“Let me see my son, Godammit! It’s been 5 days, and I … I need to see him!” 

Five days? What the hell had happened to him? Allowing his body to go lax under the firm hands, he glanced around blearily. White walls and white machines met his gaze. It looked like he was in hospital. And if what his dad was true, he had been here five days. He glanced up at the woman leaning over him, relaxing as he realised it was Melissa McCall. Scott’s mom. She had been like a surrogate mom to him over the years, and he regarded her fondly. 

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Stiles.” She said softly.

“Hey, Momma McCall. What happened? Why am I here? Is my dad ok?” 

She chuckles softly, shaking her head at him. Of course he would ask a million questions a minute. She didn’t expect anything less from the hyperactive teen. Shushing him gently, she paused as if wondering how to answer him.

“Calm down, Stiles. You were in some kind of car accident on Saturday. The doctors weren’t sure how severe your head trauma would be, so they put you in a medical induced coma, to give your brain a chance to heal itself. It’s Thursday evening now, so you’ve been out for five days. As for your dad … He only went home once to shower and change because he wouldn’t leave your side. But we made sure he ate healthily, and he slept in a cot by your bed. Don’t worry, we took care of him.”

Stiles relaxed back on the bed, groaning softly as pain radiated from every muscle it seemed. He knew he could count on Melissa to take care of things. Glancing around his room, it took him a moment before he noticed. There were no cards, no flowers, no nothing. Had the pack not heard he was in a coma? Turning his gaze back to Melissa, he doesn’t miss her slight wince. 

“Melissa … have the pack even been to visit me?”

“I’m sorry Stiles but … no. Only your dad has been in here.”

“Do they even know what happened to me?"

Biting her lip, Melissa nods slowly, sadly.

“They know, Stiles. They knew as soon as you were taken in. Scott called to ask the same night but since then … "

She sighs softly. He got the message. Since Saturday, after confirming he had been in an accident, the pack had abandoned him. They really didn’t care about him after all. Turning his face from Melissa, he struggles to hold back the tears. It felt like a crushing weight on his chest, this hopelessness, loneliness. How could his bro, his best friend, just leave him like this? After all they had been through? After Stiles had stuck with him, despite nearly being the werewolves chew toy during the full moon? He guessed his new friends were more important than he was. 

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts, he barely noticed Melissa leaving to talk to his dad. Or notice the dark figure slipping silently into his room. Wiping his eyes, he turned his head to face the ceiling, almost letting out a very manly yelp as the figure stepped closer, covering Stiles’ mouth with his hand before the sound escaped. 

Peter Hale. 

Peter fucking Hale was in his room. 

How was this his life?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wants one thing ... and Stiles is left with things to think about

Stiles stared up at Peter Fucking Hale, rendered mute in shock. What the hell was Peter doing here? If anyone saw him, they’d take him away to experiment on him, wondering how he managed to heal himself completely in such a short time. But with Peter’s hand still covering his mouth, he could only mumble unintelligently. 

“I’m sorry, Stiles, what was that you said? I couldn’t understand your mumbling.”

Glaring at the man as best he could, he shook his head to dislodge the hand. With a smirk, Peter removed his hand, as if he had done nothing at all. Rolling his eyes, Stiles glanced towards the closed door to his room before hissing at Peter:

“Dude, what the hell are you /doing/ here? Did the pack send you? Are they coming to visit? Because you know how quickly I’ll get bored in here by myself, and if Melissa is sending my dad home to shower like I think she is, I’ll definitely be by myself for a while. Also, you didn’t happen to overhear how bad my injuries are did you? Melissa didn’t get a chance to tell me before dad kicked off in the hallway- hey!”

Before Stiles could continue his flow of questions, Peter’s hand fell upon his mouth again, silencing him. Glaring at the older man again, Stiles huffed quietly, waiting as Peter rolled his eyes before sitting on the bed next to him. Taking a moment to consider his words carefully, Peter let his gaze roam over Stiles’ prone form thoughtfully. 

“If I promise to tell you everything, will you /please/ stop talking long enough to let me tell you? Without interruptions. Without question?”

At Stiles’ eager nod, Peter removed his hand from the younger man’s face again, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pale cream envelope, passing it over to Stiles without a word. Frowning, Stiles opened the envelope quietly, delighted to see a “Get Well Soon” card inside. They did care! There must have been some supernatural beastie invade while he was out, and they had sent Peter here to show him they were sorry, and they cared! Opening the card eagerly, Stiles’ bright smile slowly faded as he noticed the various scrawled messages were from the pack members, but signed by the same hand. 

Peter’s hand. 

Stiles knew that, while he could control his facial expressions, Peter would still smell the disappointment, and depression rolling off of him in waves. Of course they didn’t care. Why would they? He was just the pesky human of the group. Allison was human, but trained as a hunter, so she was useful. Even Lydia, the banshee, was useful. If not for her scream then for her genius intelligence. Why would they need the ADHD, twitchy, flailing skinny human? Sighing softly, he closed the card and lay it on the bed between himself and Peter. 

“What do you want, Peter? To show how little I mean to them? To hurt me more than they did?”

“No, Stiles. Now, you promised no interruptions.”

Taking a moment, he rests his hand on Stiles’ wrist, his fingers brushing lightly across the boy’s racing pulse point. 

“The thing you have to understand, Stiles, is that humans are an integral part of any pack. A pack with human members is a stable pack. Humans help ground the wolves, remind them of their humanity and keep them sane. Derek knows this. Or, at least, he knew it. It’s what made the fire so much worse, because some of the pack members there were human, and they burn alive because they were our family. 

I don’t know why Derek chose to shut you out, Stiles. He may think that he is protecting you, but we both know how well that works out. By pushing you away, he is leaving you more open to harm, but he is too stubborn to see it. You were the only truly selfless human member of his pack, and without you, the pack will start to crumble, start fighting amongst themselves. As for Scott … well, Melissa told him you were here. And instead of visiting his only true friend, he went to Allison. The others? I think they are too busy fighting to realise how badly injured you must be to be stuck here, and less concerned with the reason you did end up here. I, on the other hand, I have a conscience. I saw how you reacted to Derek, and I followed you. It was me who called the ambulance, and watched from a distance as you were taken in. I have been here every night since, at the times when your dad had to leave. Keeping you company. Taking a little of your pain. 

As for your injuries … A few fractured ribs, a head contusion, dislocated shoulder. The shoulder was fixed first. Your ribs were wrapped, and they were waiting for you to wake up before they could establish how bad your head injury was. But you seem ok to me. At least, from what I can smell anyway …”

At this, Peter gave Stiles his creepiest leer, tilting his head and gently inhaling, as if Stiles’ scent was the finest wine. Stiles rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath about “Creepy Zombie werewolves” before turning his focussed gaze back upon the older man. There had to be some angle here. Peter didn’t just do things out of the goodness of his heart. If he thought being nice to Stiles would get him something in return, then he’d do it. Stiles narrowed his gaze at the wolf. 

“Ok … say I believe everything you say. Why are you here? What do you get out of this? And don’t give me that ‘innocent’ look … I know you. Everything you do, you do for a reason. Now, out with it.”

Peter gave him an appraising look, seeming pleased that Stiles knew him so well. Wrapping his hand more firmly around Stiles’ wrist, he held it up to his mouth, teeth lightly scraping the soft flesh. Stiles shivered despite himself. Memories of the last time Peter held his wrist like this flash through his mind. Last time he had been terrified, but oddly aroused. Peter had been handsome and charismatic, after all. He still was. Wetting his lips gently, Stiles tries to ignore the stirring interest he feels, instead focussing on tugging his wrist free. But Peter keeps a firm grip on him, smiling serenely. 

“What do I get out of it? Well, now that you mention it … I’ve always liked you Stiles. You know this. But did Derek ever mention the significance of a bite on the wrist? No? Tut tut, he really did leave you vulnerable. Shall I enlighten you?”

At Stiles’ pointe glare, and insistent attempts to retrieve his captured wrist, Peter chuckles and leans close, his voice a low murmur that forces Stiles to lean closer as well, so as not to miss a single word.

“A bite on the wrist is a … precursor, if you will, to the mating bite. If someone has a bite on their wrist, it means someone is courting them. Now, don’t look all shocked at me, Stiles. I had told you I liked you. And as an Alpha … if you had accepted, we would have been a mated pair. The pack we would have made together would have been strong, stable. Perfect. Nothing that happened after you all killed me would have happened because we would have chosen our pack carefully. Each member bringing something to the pack to make it that much stronger. Unlike Derek, who bit Jackson because he demanded it. Insolent pup. If I were still the Alpha, the pack would not be in pieces like it is now. 

But back to the matter at hand. It’s really not a bad thing, Stiles. Say yes to me, and I will give you a pack. One which is deserving of a mated pair. One which will not take advantage of your skills, your humanity. Does it really sound so bad? I can tell you like me … Or, at least, you are not physically repelled by me.”

Lowering his voice into a throaty purr, Peter knew he had Stiles’ full attention now. Who, in Stiles’ position, wouldn’t want a pack like that? To be accepted for what he was, cared about. Loved, even. Peter could give him that, and more. All he had to do was say yes to him. But he knew that rushing this would scare the young man. So, pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ racing pulse, he smirked softly. Stiles’ pulse had jumped at the touch. Maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he had originally thought. With the pack steadfastly ignoring the teen’s existence, they were pushing him closer to the wolf. And the wolf was getting hungry for the teen. He knew that Stiles would be responsive to the right touch. And since he knew no one else had ever touched the teen, he intended to be the first, and only, one to draw out breathy moans from this exquisite creature. Standing up, he gently places Stiles’ wrist on the bed, his lips curled up in a smirk. 

“How about I give you some time to consider it? Think about it this way. Say yes to being mine, and I will give you the world, Stiles. Anything you want, I will give to you.” 

Glancing at the door, he backs slowly towards the window. With one last, lingering look to Stiles, he disappeared out the window just as Melissa stepped in the door. Frowning lightly at Stiles’ flushed complexion, she rushes over to check his temperature. After a few more tests, she leaves him alone, closing the door behind her. Leaving Stiles to his thoughts. And, boy, had Peter given him a lot to think about. 

Seriously! How was this his life?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets home from the hospital, and wakes up in a rather strange, but pleasant, way ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was meant to update again last week but I got busy, so sorry if you had to wait! As usual, I don't own Teen Wolf or anything. Comments and such are welcome. This entire work is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Thanks so much for keeping up so far! Enjoy!

After a week in hospital, Stiles was ready to go home. With little to do, he had been slowly driven up the wall, with only Peter’s appearances making his stay bearable. And that thought alone scared him. Peter had been right: Stiles was attracted to the older man. But was simple attraction enough to bind himself to the man forever, or until either of them died? He wasn’t sure. 

Which was why Peter hadn’t brought it up again. Stiles knew that Peter was just biding his time, letting the weakened human think it through and have his internal freak out. And he did have his freak out. But it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. Oddly, the idea of having someone care for him, protect him, maybe eventually love him, was very comforting. But what had Peter meant when he said he would build Stiles a new pack? Peter was a beta. He couldn’t turn people anymore. It made Stiles frown, wondering if Peter intended to get his Alpha powers back, and if so, should he be afraid for Derek? Stiles wanted to ask, but was afraid of the answer, so he kept his questions to himself, deciding to instead just enjoy Peter’s company.

Which, again, surprised him. Peter was funny, witty, clever … He always had a witty retort ready for whatever Stiles said. It was easy. Comfortable. 

Finally, the doctors tell Stiles he can go home. But he has to take time off from school to properly rest for two weeks. Stiles was not complaining. He gets to go home! There may have been fist pumping until his ribs reminded him it was a bad idea. Grinning happily, Stiles takes a quick shower in his rooms’ en-suite and dresses. Grabbing his possessions, he meets his dad out front as he signs the release forms. This was it. Stiles was getting out of hospital! He’s have to text Peter to let him know. At some point during his time in hospital, Peter had pilfered his phone and put his number in. Creeper Wolf, he though affectionately. And that alone should make him wonder if he had a concussion. He was thinking about Peter with affection? Shaking his head lightly, his face breaks out in to a broad grin as his dad pulls up outside their house. He knows the pack didn’t visit him, but maybe Melissa coerced them into giving him a welcome home party. Walking with a light bounce in his step, he watches as his dad unlocks the front door before stepping inside …

 

… To utter silence. No one was here. There were no banners, no balloons. No friends jumping out, shouting “Surprise!” Biting back the tears, he shook his head and walked to the stairs, ignoring the sad look his dad gave him, noticing the slump in his son’s shoulders. Nothing his dad could say right now would stop the dull ache in his chest. The pack really didn’t care, did they? Once inside his room, Stiles shucked off his clothes, climbing under the covers in just his boxers. Reaching under his bed, he pulled up a hidden cuddly teddy, pulling it close to his chest as the tears slowly start to fall. The teddy was one his mom had bought him, not long before they had discovered she had cancer. It was one of the few things he still had left that she gave him. He hadn’t needed the comfort of the teddy since the first time Scott had tried to kill him after he was bitten. How boring must his life be that he wants to be around the ones who hurt him the most? How is it he is the only one able to forgive them for every wrong, yet they are the ones to hold the grudges? Burying his face in the teddy, he ignores the familiar ping of his phone, telling him he had a text. Why should he care when no one else does? Squeezing his eyes closed, his shoulders quake with the gentle sobs he tries to smother, slowly but surely, drifting off to sleep.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

For a while, Stiles doesn’t dream. His mind is blank as he sleeps, trying not to think of the pack who rejected him. He doesn’t jerk awake from nightmares either, and for once, he sleeps the whole night, clutching his teddy to his chest. When he wakes, he blinks tiredly against the light shining in through his window. His open window. Which he had been sure was closed last night. Feeling more alert, he notices something else that should have been obvious as soon as he woke. There was a warmth at his back, a weight resting over his hips, holding him almost protectively. Stilling, Stiles slowly turned his head, eyes widening as he saw Peter’s sleepy face against his shoulder. Blinking in surprise, Stiles slowly started to remove Peter’s hand from his waist, stilling again as Peter grumbled in his sleep, tightening his arms around the boy. 

Well, this was awkward. 

As Peter pulled him flush against his chest, Stiles’ cheeks flushed as he realised that this was now even more awkward. Apparently wolves were not immune to morning wood, and if what Stiles felt pressed against his ass was anything to go by, Peter was fairly well endowed. Clearing his throat gently, Stiles turned his head to look at Peter again.

“Uh … Peter? Dude, why are you in my bed? And … could you, you know, let me go? It’s weird …”

Peter merely grumbled and buried his face in Stiles’ neck, snuffling quietly before licking a long strip of skin, making Stiles squeak (In a totally manly way). 

“Peter! Dude, no touchy! Bad Peter! Come on, dude, wake up!”

At the soft whine in Stiles’ throat, Peter’s eyes snap open. Seeing where he is, how he is, his eyes flare bright blue for a moment before settling back to his normal sparkling blue. Pulling Stiles closer, he playfully bites at his shoulder, barely leaving a mark before nuzzling him.

“Have you thought more about my offer, little Red? We could wake up like this every morning. You could sleep at night without nightmares, waking up in the morning knowing someone cares. Is that a bad thing to want? Because, I want that too, you know.”

At Stiles’ look, Peter chuckles softly, running his hand lightly down Stiles’ arm to lace their fingers together.

“Why the look of surprise? Surely you’ve noticed I haven’t been with anyone since the fire. And, no, I did not sleep with my nurse. In any sense. She was eager, I assure you. But she stank of too many other men to make me even consider it. You, however …” 

Peter leans close again, gently inhaling Stiles’ scent, his nose lightly brushing the boys neck. 

“You are pure. Untouched. Your scent is all your own. To have you as mine, knowing I would be the only one to touch you … It’s like an aphrodisiac. My wolf is howling for you, Stiles. If you aren’t ready to answer, I’ll wait. But I can’t wait forever, little Red. My wolf will be chomping at the bit to have you soon. But I implore you to say yes …”

Peter’s voice is like a low purr, resonating through Stiles’ veins. He opens his mouth to give Peter his answer, but his phone vibrates on the nightstand, insistent. Both of them   
groaning softly, Peter passes Stiles’ the phone, eyes narrowed as he sees the caller ID. Derek. What the hell did he want now? Sighing, Stiles presses the answer button.

“Derek, what a lovely surprise”

The sarcasm dripping from Stiles’ lips is obviously missed as Derek responds, terse and short. 

“Stiles, we need you to research a new creature we’re up against. And we need it researched n-“

“No.”

“…. What do you mean no?”

Glancing at Peter for support, gently squeezing the fingers laced with his, Stiles takes a deep breath before focussing his anger down the line.

“I mean no Derek. Want to hear it in Spanish? Noh! You kicked me out of the pack. You said you didn’t need a worthless human like me. And now you want my help? No way. You have Lydia for your genius research now. Use her, and leave me the hell out of it!”

Peter lay beside Stiles, smiling proudly. Squeezing his hand in encouragement, a low growl escapes his lips as he hears what Derek says. 

“Stiles, you ungrateful little shit! We took you in when Scott was bitten. We tolerated you for so long, and this is how you repay us? As for Lydia … well … She can’t do the research.”

“You mean she won’t.”

Stiles knew Lydia. She didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do, and nothing Derek could say or do would change that. It would almost make Stiles laugh, if it weren’t for the hurt coursing through him. Of course, they’d only want him back for research. After nearly two weeks in hospital with no one but Peter and his father visiting him, Derek thought he could just demand Stiles’ time and he would get it. Well, not anymore. 

“Look, Derek. You kicked me out. And then I was in hospital for /two weeks/! None of you came to visit me. None of you gave a damn that I could have died /because of you/! This was all /your/ fault, and you still don’t give a damn. Well guess what. Now you have to live with the consequences of your actions!”

Hanging up on the Alpha, Stiles turned to face Peter, surprising him as he buried his face in the wolf’s chest, body shaking lightly. Sniffling lightly, he pulled back to gaze up into Peter’s eyes. 

“If we do this, we take things slow, okay? We get to know each other properly, hang out together. Things like that. Deal?”

Seeing Peter’s eyes widen, Stiles knows he wasn’t expecting it so soon. Nodding slowly, Peter murmurs softly

“Deal.”

 

And Stiles holds up his right wrist to Peter’s lips, watching as the wolf’s eyes darken with lust, running his lips and nose along the boys pulse point, shuddering as the scent overwhelms him. Before Stiles can change his mind, Peter locks his gaze with the boy, grasping his wrist and holding him in place. 

Then he bit.


	5. Sorry's Not Good Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' first day at school is not what he was expecting ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I don't own Teen Wolf or anything. Unfortunately hah. So, yeah, new chapter, little bit of angst towards the end. Do not kill me, K? Comments and such are welcome. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

Waking with a start, Stiles is surprised (and, if he would admit it to himself, a little disappointed) to find himself alone in bed. Had last night with Peter just been a dream? Lifting his right wrist in front of his eyes, a small smile curves his lips as he sees the bite mark there. It’s still red, but paler than it had been the night before. Holding his wrist against his heart, his smile brightens for the first time in a long while as his alarm goes off.

Oh yeah, time for school now. The doctors had given him the all clear for school, but no lacrosse. Which was fine, since he would be bench warming anyway. Leaping from his bed, he quickly grabs a shower as his dad makes breakfast and coffee downstairs. Once washed, his teeth cleaned, he heads back to his room to pull on his usual clothes: jeans, t-shirt under a plaid shirt and trainers. Making sure his marked wrist was hidden from view, he grabbed his bag and bounded down the stairs, keeping his face neutral for his dad. 

No need for the Sheriff to know his son was being courted by an older man. At least, not yet anyway.

In the kitchen, Stiles scowled at the mess his dad was making. It looked like it might be pancakes, but they were being burned. Badly. Shaking his head, he hip checked his dad out of the way to save the rest of the batter from the same fate.

“Seriously, dad? Have you not learned to leave the actual cooking to me?”

Stiles teased his dad lightly, chuckling at the eye roll he receives in response. Just for that, his dad is not getting extra bacon like he had apparently been planning to sneak while Stiles was in the shower. And Stiles was meant to be the child in the family? Cooking the pancakes and bacon to perfection, he plates them up, giving his dad the healthier plate which included fruit while he took most of the bacon. That’ll teach him for trying to be sneaky. At his dad’s pitiful look (where did he learn /that/ from??) he reluctantly handed over an extra slice of bacon. His dad looked delighted, like he had won. Well, he would just wait until lunch, when the deputies brought him salad for lunch. Smirking softly at his evil ploy, he dug into his breakfast. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Driving to school, Stiles felt the first twinges of nerves hit his stomach. Without the pack, he had no one now. No one to talk to, or hang out with. He was almost tempted to pull his phone out and text Scott, and beg for forgiveness. Then he remembered the two weeks in hospital with no visitors. And Derek’s demanding phone call last night. No. He would not beg to be their friends. Not after what they had done to him. 

Resolve strengthened, he pulled into the parking lot, finding a space before jumping down from the jeep and heading to his locker. Studiously ignoring everyone around him, he grabbed the books he needed and closed his locker, jumping as Isaac’s face appeared beside him. Dropping his books, Stiles curses quietly before bending down to retrieve them, surprised as Isaac helps. Knowing the pack, Stiles is suspicious of Isaac’s motives. 

“Thanks Isaac, but I got these. I’m sure your pack wouldn’t want you to be infected with pathetic human cooties now you are all so super and awesome without me.”

Isaac blinks at the sarcasm dripping from Stiles’ voice. Why was Isaac so surprised? He was there when everything happened. Did he really think just appearing before Stiles would make everything ok again? Shaking his head, he turns to walk away when Isaac’s voice stops him. 

“Derek says he needs your help. He … he really needs your help, Stiles …”

Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles gives Isaac his best indifferent look before responding.

“He should have thought of that before kicking me out of the pack then, shouldn’t he? As I told him when he called, get Lydia to do your research since you guys wanted her so bad. Leave me out of it.”

Walking away, he almost hesitates as he hears Isaac sniffing the air. Shit. He might smell Peter on him, despite this morning’s shower. Straightening his shoulders, he decides he doesn’t care. He pack didn’t want him, why should they care if they smell Peter on him? It was none of their business anymore. Walking into his first class, he sat in the empty seat beside Danny, hoping the pack members in this class would take the hint and leave him alone. With a quirked eyebrow, Danny watched him curiously but didn’t say anything. Thank God for Danny. 

Throughout the class, Stiles was aware of the pack staring at him, almost challenging him to turn and look at them. He didn’t. They took it in turns to pester him when they got the chance the rest of the day. Allison quietly begged him to come back to the pack and help them. Lydia told him to get over himself and help or she’d set Prada on him. Jackson tried intimidation tactics but, when compared to Derek, he looked like a Chihuahua so that really didn’t work. Erica and Boyd tried to seduce him to their way of thinking (And, really??) but were left sorely disappointed when Stiles told them where to go. 

Scott was the final one to try, and the one Stiles had been both looking forward to and dreading in equal measures. This was his best friend, his brother. The one person Stiles had been able to depend upon since they were kids. But he had broken the bro code. Multiple times. And Stiles had forgiven him. But not this time. Too much had happened now for it to be the simple. And Scott had to know this. But that didn’t make this any easier. Shaking his head as Scott approached him, Stiles held up his hand, halting his friend’s progress.

“No Scott. Don’t say it. Whatever it is, I don’t care anymore. You guys rejected me, left me to rot in the hospital for two weeks, then /demand/ my help? You are more stupid than you look if you really think I’m going to help after all that. After everything we’ve been through, when your mom told you I was in hospital, you went to Allison? Where was your concern for your brother? Whose accident was /caused/ by you guys? I heard nothing from you for weeks, and now you want my help? No. Not happening, Scott. So just leave it.”

Before Stiles can continue, Scott leans close, sniffing at him. Freezing, Stiles can do nothing as Scott grabs his right wrist, yanking back the sleeve to reveal the bite. Scott’s eyes widen, confused. 

“What happened to you, Stiles? Who bit you? /Who/?”

Scott’s grip tightens on his wrist as he demands answers. With a whimper, Stiles murmurs “Peter” under his breath, gasping as Scott releases him. 

“So that’s why you smell like him. Did he … Are you … Will you be a werewolf like me, Stiles? Is that what this is all about? You want to be like us so you won’t be left out anymore? You’d whore yourself out to any wolf willing to turn you, and Peter just happened to oblige? ”

The slap rings out in the silence as Stiles’ hand stings from the contact, surprising himself and Scott. He hadn’t meant to hit the other boy but his words … Stiles was furious. 

“Who the hell do you think you are, Scott? Mr Perfect? Well you’re not! Which is evident in the fact that /Peter is a Beta and therefore can’t turn me, you dipshit/! Guess your werewolf knowledge has gone down since I left since any smart person would know that this mark is a mating bite. Or the precursor to the mating bite. Peter /wants/ me, Scott. Not because I could be a damn good werewolf, better than you anyway, but because I am me! I obsess over small details, which saves all your damn lives! I research the hell out of things so we know all we need to know about everything. I put my life on the line to save your ass more times than I can count, even though I’m /just the measly, weak human/! So do not stand there, judging me for my choice when you guys pushed me as far away as you could!” 

Turning away, Stiles stormed over to his jeep, ignoring the plaintive way Scott whined at his back. Hopping in the jeep, he cast one glance over at the pack that had gathered around the distressed Scott. Shaking his head and wiping at his eyes, he drove home. He did not need this right now. 

Once back in his room, he dropped his bag before crawling into his bed. Taking his phone out his pocket, he quickly pulled up Peter’s contact information, typing out a quick text before he chickened out:

Stiles to Peter: So …. When do we start making this new pack of ours, and how do we do it? 

Stiles hesitates a moment, wondering if he is really going to do this. Replaying Scott’s words in his head, his eyes tear up, before glancing back at his text.

 

And pressing send.


	6. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the pack had their say ... now Derek wants his

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight dub-con here as Derek does something without Stiles' consent. Because in this fic, Derek is a douche. I own nothing of Teen Wolf. Unbeta'd so mistakes are all my own. Comments and such welcome. Enjoy!

Slowly blinking awake from the impromptu nap he took, the first thing Stiles noticed was the feeling of being watched. Sitting up slowly, he casts his gaze around the room, pausing as he sees a figure lurking in the darkened corner of his room. Only one person lurked like that. Sighing softly as he rubbed his eyes, Stiles resisted the temptation to snark at Derek. 

“What do you want, Derek? Were my actions not clear? I want nothing to do with you, or your pack, anymore. So just … Just leave.”

Red eyes glow in response. Derek steps out of the corner, a low growl escaping his throat as his eyes watch Stiles stand up from his bed. His gaze finds the mark on the boy’s wrist, and his eyes glare a brighter red. 

So, Scott hadn’t been exaggerating. Stiles had accepted Peter’s request to court him. What was Peter’s endgame? What did taking the boy gain him? Scowling darkly, he refocuses on the room, and the pale boy before him. He didn’t want Stiles. But … He didn’t want Peter to have him either. He had to convince Stiles to come back to the pack. He had noticed that, without the hyperactive, annoying teen, the pack were argumentative, and starting to fray at the edges. There was something about the boy that had kept the pack together, and now … Well, Derek thought, the sooner Stiles was one of them again, the better. 

“The pack needs you Stiles. More than Peter does. Whatever he is offering you, we can give you. If you want the bite, I will give it to you! You don’t have to feel like Peter is your only option here, Stiles.”

Quirking his eyebrow, Stiles stared at Derek incredulously. Was he being serious? He only wanted him because he was afraid his uncle would do something to his pack. He didn’t care about Stiles. He never had. Shaking his head, Stiles turned his back on Derek, heading to his bedroom door.

“You have my answer Derek, now get out. I don’t care what your reasons are for suddenly wanting me back in the pack but I –"

Stiles voice cut off into a sharp cry as Derek grabbed him and shoved him against the door, pinning him there with a growl. Flipping him around, Derek leaned in close, nose running along the boy’s neck, inhaling his uncle’s scent left there. Keeping the boy pinned with an arm against his throat, Derek lifted the wrist with the bite. Stiles wanted to be owned by a wolf? Then he would be. Ignoring Stiles’ struggles and cries, Derek pulled the wrist to his lips, biting down on it, hard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Derek leaves, Stiles is left huddled on his bed, clutching his newly bleeding wrist to his chest. Why had Derek bitten him? Was he now going to become a werewolf? Unashamed, he let the tears fall from his eyes, his breath hitching in his throat. Damn SourWolf. What would Peter say? Stiles froze. What would Peter /do/? His breath caught in his throat, panic starting to set in as he pictured Peter and Derek fighting, each trying to prove he could be the better Alpha, each spilling blood. 

No. He couldn’t let that happen.

He already cared so much for Peter. He wouldn’t let him get hurt. As if summoned by his thoughts alone, Peter appeared at his window. The smile on his face quickly slipped, though, as he caught the scent of his nephew in the room, and Stiles’ blood. Climbing in, he rushed to Stiles’ side, carefully tugging at the bleeding wrist to see the damage. Seeing the second bite, Peter looked furious. He pulled Stiles to him, stroking his fingers through the boy’s hair to soothe him, ease the shudders wracking the small body. How could Derek be so selfish? He wanted Peter to suffer, and Peter understood that. But to try and force a mating on a boy who was so close to breaking point? Just to get back at him?

It was deplorable. 

Sighing softly, he nuzzles against Stiles’ neck, scent marking him as he tries to explain.

“You have a choice in this, Stiles. Derek may have tried to take that choice from you, but you still have it. I know you want to take things slow with me but … If you changed your mind, I could give you the mating bite. Then Derek could never touch you like this again. If he did, I would kill him. I’m tempted to kill him anyway, for hurting you. I just don’t want you thinking that Derek will win. If you don’t want him, you can refuse him, Stiles.”

Glancing up at Peter through tear-filled eyes, he saw what Peter was offering. He would kill his own nephew … Just for Stiles. To make Stiles feel safe again. He’d kill his remaining family for Stiles. In that moment, Stiles knew. 

He would choose Peter.

Not just because Derek was being the biggest dick that ever existed. Not just because Peter would protect him. But because Peter treated him with respect, with love. Ever since Peter had bitten his wrist, he had never overstepped the boundaries Stiles had put up. He had respected them. Derek … didn’t give a shit. He just wanted a stable pack to do what he ordered. And without Stiles, they were no longer stable. 

Stiles knew he would probably forgive most of the pack for their behaviour. Most had just been following their Alpha’s orders. But Scott and Derek? He didn’t think he could forgive them. Scott had burned their bridges to ashes, so nothing remained. All he thought about was Allison. Allison’s lips, Allison’s eyes, Allison’s safety, sex with Allison. He/never/ considered Stiles’ safety. Him and Scott were meant to be brothers, had been as close as brothers since they were kids. And now that Scott was getting laid? He had become the second biggest dick that ever existed. 

And Derek? The less Stiles thought about Derek, the better. He had pushed Stiles around far too much in the past. And now? Stiles was done. He wouldn’t take it anymore. 

Reaching up to stroke Peter’s cheek, Stiles leaned into the older man. Even if it wasn’t conventional, or if his dad disapproved when he found out, this man was who he wanted. Cupping Peter’s cheek, he pulls him close to press his lips gently against the wolf’s. He had surprised Peter, he knew, but the surprise wore off quickly as the wolf returned the tender kiss, wrapping his arms around the boy’s slim waist as he pulled him closer. It wasn’t anything huge. Just the press of lips together, moving slowly over the others, breath mixing as lips parted, chaste kiss becoming gentle open mouthed kiss. But it was, and always would be the best kiss for Stiles. The first kiss he had, with someone who genuinely cared for him. 

With the first person he truly cared for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, but this did not want to write itself -_- 
> 
> Next chapter will hopefully be a bit more cheerful ... maybe ...


	7. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a surprise at school

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in posting! Work has been hectic. I will try and continue my weekly updates until the end, which I think will be soon ... *sniffles* Also, it's a little shorter than the other chapters, but the next one will be longer. Hope you enjoy!

Waking up the next morning, Stiles groans softly at the new ache in his wrist. The bite Derek had left. The memories flooded his mind, making him whimper in fear. Derek didn’t really want him. He just wanted to make sure Peter couldn’t have him. It wasn’t exactly a comforting idea. Taking a deep breath, Stiles tried to calm his breathing, suddenly aware of a heavy weight across his stomach. Glancing over his shoulder, he relaxes as he sees the sleepy face of his werewolf. His mate to be, he figured. Stiles know he should be more freaked out by the fact that two strong werewolves are … essentially … fighting over him. But he isn’t. At least, he isn’t freaked out by Peter. 

 

Peter, who after waking from a coma, went on to bite Stiles’ best friend and then on a killing spree. And was then killed by his own nephew. Peter, who was no longer scary to Stiles. Who flirted with Stiles. Joked with him. Made him feel like he was needed. 

 

Derek, on the other hand? He was all frowny eyebrow and claws. If Stiles were brave enough, he would go as far as to say that Derek was a bad Alpha. He shouldn’t have become one, he wasn’t used to the power, and it was making him a bad person. Stiles wondered how long it would be before Derek became as crazy as Peter had been, minus the thirst for vengeance. 

 

And now that Derek had made his intentions clear, Stiles was afraid. Very afraid. What if Derek tried to force the mating bite on him? Biting his lip to stop the whimpers escaping, Stiles felt Peter tighten his grip on him, keeping him flush against the older man’s body, his hand moving to rest over Stiles’ heart.

 

“Calm down Stiles. Your heart is going crazy”

 

Taking another slow deep breath, Stiles closes his eyes and tries to relax, to slow his heartbeat. Raising his hand to cover the older man’s, he squeezes gently. See? Peter, good. Derek, bad. Leaning back into Peter’s embrace, Stiles turned his head slightly to face the man. 

 

“Did you mean what you said, Peter? That … I could refuse Derek’s … uh … courtship?”

 

“Yes, Stiles. The mating bond only really works if it is consensual. If Derek tried to force it on you, it wouldn’t cement the bond. Trust me, Stiles. Everything will be okay.”  
Nodding slowly, Stiles is about to close his eyes again when his alarm goes off. Dammit, he had school. Getting up reluctantly, his gaze never leaves Peter as he dresses then climbs out his window with a reassuring smile. That was also sexy, for looking sleep ruffled. Shaking his head, Stiles left to shower and get ready for school. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The entire day at school, the wolves watched Stiles like … well … hungry wolves. It made Stiles uncomfortable. He did his best to ignore them, until Erica cornered him on his way to English, tugging him into an empty classroom. Before Stiles can complain at the roughness of her movements, she silences him, looking at him pleadingly. 

 

“Stiles, this is the time I need you to /not/ talk, okay? We need your help. And by ‘we’ I mean Isaac, Boyd and myself. Derek is … becoming irrational, violent. Isaac is terrified of him. Even Boyd is wary of him, and Boyd doesn’t scare easily. I know we hurt you, and we’re so sorry, but we were following Derek’s orders! Can you … Can you talk to Peter? Or, at least, help us escape, somehow?”

 

Stiles stared at Erica in surprise. He hadn’t realised that things had gotten bad for the pack. He hesitated a moment, thinking as he bit his lip. Seeing her vulnerable look, he made his second most important decision of the last few days. 

 

“You have my number, right?” At her quick nod, he continued, “I’ll speak to Peter. Text me later when you are alone, okay? I’ll … I’ll try, but I can’t promise anything right now. If Peter says no … I’ll research other packs, but that’s the best I can do right now, Erica”

 

As her face breaks out into a relieved smile, I know I made the right decision. Erica suddenly pouncing on him and hugging him tightly was a surprise though. Hesitantly, he raised his arms to hug her back, relaxing as she clung to him. 

 

Maybe things wouldn’t suck after all. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of the school day passed quickly after that. The pack seemed … split. Jackson, Lydia, Scott and Allison were glaring daggers at Stiles all day, whereas Erica, Isaac and Boyd sat closer to Stiles, seemingly looking out for him. He didn’t mind so much. Those three had always been his favourite betas anyway. Erica was kickass, and loved games and comics. Boyd had a dry sense of humour, but was also quietly observant. And Isaac? Isaac was literally like a puppy you just wanted to cuddle forever. So the fact he had these three kind of on his side? He took that as a good thing. 

 

At the end of the school day, the three betas followed Stiles to his jeep, keeping an eye on him as he climbed in and drove off. Back home, Stiles took his phone out to text Peter, a soft smile curving his lips as thoughts of the wolf filled his mind.

Yup, he was smitten. 

Shaking his head, he focusses on the text he wants to send to the older man, rereading what he has already:

To Peter: Hey, Peter! We have a situation. Three betas looking for a new Alpha. Can we help them out? You can guess which I mean. Sx

Pursing his lips, Stiles considers deleting then thinks, What the hell. Before he can change his mind again, he quickly presses “send”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyway, I'm also taking prompts, so if you want something written, send me a message and I will do what I can!


	8. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has a plan ... but when do their plans ever go right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter guys! Sorry it took me so long but this did not want to write itself. I changed bits from canon, and you will see why. I hope you guys like it! Unbeta's so mistakes are my own. Comments welcomed. Enjoy!

Later that night, Peter snuck in Stiles’ window. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but when he felt a gaze upon his neck and he turned to see, Stiles’ still jumped in fright, a soft squeak escaping his lips (Which he would deny vehemently). Muttering under his breath about collars with bells, he turns in his chair, fully facing his … Wolf. He couldn’t call the other man his mate, not yet. Nothing was official, though with each passing day he wished it would. 

“Hey, CreeperWolf, what brings you to my room … through my window … /again/?”

Peter merely smirks, moving to recline on Stiles’ bed, patting the space beside him invitingly. Stiles does /not/ trip over his own feet in his eagerness to cuddle up to the elder wolf. Nope. 

“Well, little one, I came to discuss your text earlier. I assume the three betas you were referring to were Isaac, Erica and Boyd?”

Nodding slowly, Stiles thought back to how the betas had looked earlier. Unsure. Afraid. This had not been what they signed up for, a power crazy alpha who would reject a member of their pack so easily, yet demand his respect and help regardless. Biting his lip, he glanced up at Peter hesitantly. 

"Is there a way to help them, Peter? I don’t want to think what Derek could do to them if they disobeyed an order of his. I mean, I know Erica and Boyd could look after themselves, but Isaac? I think one hit and he would be cowering, remembering the abuse he had to deal with from his father …. I can’t leave them with him, Peter, I just can’t!”

Chuckling softly, Peter wrapped his arms around the younger man, pulling him close to his chest as he murmured soft reassurances. Stiles was right. Something had to be done. As a plan started to form in his mind, he pulled back from Stiles, gazing down at him steadily. He knew the boy would be an excellent mate, it was why he had chosen him. But this obvious devotion to his more fragile pack mates made him so much more. Stiles would be his mate, but he would also be the pack mom. The one who cared for the pack members, loved them, gave them everything they needed to be happy. It was like Stiles was born to the role. Look how he already was willing to risk an Alpha’s wrath to protect his friends. 

Seeing the younger man gaze back at him in confusion, Peter let a softer, more genuine smile curve his lips. Pressing a soft kiss to Stiles’ forehead, he murmured softly:

“Relax, Stiles, I have a plan …”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few days later, the plan was put into effect. Isaac, Erica and Boyd left Derek’s lair, the burned down Hale house, and came to Stiles’ home. On the front porch, they hesitated. They wanted to leave Derek, but what if Peter was worse, and Stiles was just blind to it? Just as they were turning to leave, Stiles opened the front door with a broad grin. 

“Guys, you made it! Come on in! Peter and I were just setting up a movie marathon and ordering pizza, which should be here soon.” 

Stepping back with a smile, he allowed the others entrance before closing the door. Inside, the three betas stared in surprise at the sight before them. There were bowls of candy on the table, an ice box full of soda, large bags of popcorn … And the couch had been transformed into a fort. Glancing at Stiles, he merely grinned in response, before the doorbell went, and he dashed off to get the pizzas. Coming back through and settling the five pizza boxes on the table, he kicked off his shoes before climbing into the fort, peeking his head out to tell the others to join him and Peter. Shrugging, the three betas kicked off their shoes and crawled in with Stiles, hesitant at first, before fully relaxing with the food, movies and general ease of atmosphere. 

Before long, they were all laughing and joking, mocking Peter’s choice in B-movie horror dvds, eventually muting them and adding their own script. The pizza was finished (Oh dear, none left for the Sheriff, Stiles felt so bad … not) the popcorn was thrown everywhere and the candy and soda was almost finished. Sitting back slightly, Stiles was relaxed and happy. He could see that the betas had not had this much fun in a long time, and it made him feel warm and fuzzy knowing he did this for them. Glancing at Peter, he is about to ask if they should tell the betas their plan, when Stiles’ phone goes off. Frowning as he sees Derek’s name on the caller ID, he hesitantly answers. 

“Stiles! Tell Erica, Boyd and Isaac to get their asses back here /immediately/ or else …”

“Or else what Derek? I am not your pack anymore, you have no authority over me. And the betas are spending the night, so no, they will /not/ be returning to you immediately. You have a problem with that, you know where I am”

Hanging up, he looks over to the surprised looks of the betas. Shrugging, he turns to Peter.

“I think now would be the time to tell them …”

Nodding silently, Peter turns to the betas, explaining what he wants to do, and gives them the choice: They could become a part of his pack, and enjoy similar nights like this, with weekly training sessions, of course. Or, if they wanted out of Beacon Hills, he would help them look for a suitable Alpha who could take them in. He assured them that they could take a few days to think it over, but he wanted them to know they had a choice. Smiling softly, he pulled Stiles back against his chest, hands running lightly down his arms. This was how pack was supposed to be, and if his plan worked, then this would be how his future pack would be. 

Suddenly, the betas tensed, glancing to the back garden. Stiles turned his gaze, to see what had disrupted their fun time. 

Of course. 

Derek. 

Sighing, Stiles and Peter got up, indicating the betas to wait behind in the fort, before heading to the back door. 

“Derek, you have no right to be here. Leave now, or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for trespassing ...” 

Narrowing his gaze, Derek takes a step closer. Peter decides, enough is enough and snarls a warning before shifting to his beta form and charging at Derek. Stiles stumbles back inside, closing the door with a muttered curse. This was not the plan! The betas, hearing the snarls from outside, come into the kitchen with Stiles, watching through the window as Derek and Peter fight, neither of them holding back. The betas stand close to Stiles, offering silent comfort as he watches his future mate fight for his life, and those of the betas. 

All too soon, it was over. 

Stiles rushed outside to his mate’s side, fingers brushing lightly over his face, neck and everywhere he could touch. Beside them, Derek was breathing raggedly. Peter’s eyes slowly opened, flaring red as he caught the scent of his worried mate. 

It had worked. 

Peter had heard of a myth, where the transfer of Alpha powers was not through death, but through a beta beating the Alpha in a fair fight and having the alpha submit. Through submitting to a lower ranked wolf, the shift in power allowed the beta to become an Alpha. And it had worked! Peter didn’t have to feel the guilt of his nephew’s blood on his hands, like he had with Laura. Grinning happily, Stiles pulled Peter to him, kissing him deeply as the three betas stepped closer, hesitantly. 

Glancing over his shoulder, Stiles grinned at them, opening his arms for a puppy pile (Peter would deny that’s what it was called later, but it totally was) as the betas piled in, scent marking the pack they wanted to join. Releasing himself from the tangle of flailing limbs, Peter walks to where Derek is still lying, gazing down at him with red eyes. 

“I will not force you from this pack, as you have forced others, Derek. If you wish to be a part of this pack, you will do so by my rules. If not, I will give you the same choice I offered your betas. I will find you another Alpha to join. It is up to you. But know this: Stiles is my mate. He will officially be mine when he accepts the bite from me. You hurt him in any way, and you will be rejected from this pack. Do I make myself clear?”

As Derek nodded silently, Peter turned back to the others. The betas immediately exposed their necks, submitting to him, accepting him as their Alpha. Smiling, he ushered them back inside the house, leaving Derek to his thoughts. The betas jumped back into the fort, laughing and joking, leaving Stiles and Peter in the kitchen. 

Smiling at Peter, pulling him close, Stiles tilting his head, exposing his neck without a word. He was ready. His Alpha would be his. Chuckling as Peter nuzzles his neck gently, he leans his head on Peter’s shoulder, eyes drifting closed as he relaxes into the embrace. 

And then Peter bit his mate, rumbling softly as the bond solidified between them. This was his mate. His pack. His second chance. 

And he wouldn’t fuck it up again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of details during the fight. I suuuuck at writing fight scenes. And I changed the transfer of the Alpha power because, although in this Derek is a dick, I still couldn't kill him >.


End file.
